Hardwork gone...my spirit went on with it.

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Have you ever been in a situation when your most heartfelt work had gone up in smoke? Or you're already in square 99 of a gameboard and then you have to go back to square one all over again? Tell you what, I have just experienced it. It almost literally went that way for me. And now it seemed like my soul is being sucked down in a pit. I don't want to feel depressed for long. I don't like it. The more I feel sad, the more I feel weak. And so you had no choice but to read all I put here as I will recount every good thing I have before I move on: like, thankfully, I'm a cautious person and had saved an old backup. So I would just have to start on square 55 instead return to square 1. I can't imagine what I would be doing now if I had to literally start with a blank page. I am in a middle of a novel project of mine that I determined to complete before the end of this month. I drank a lot of coffee on this that had been going round and round in my head for more than ten years and had just started in the middle of February this year. I had thought to input digitally all my longhand first draft, editing it at the same time as I go along. And then, I saved every file I had on my flash drive. Right now, I feel so stupid in doing that. All along I knew beforehand flash drives are never a good memory storage for important files. But, at least I was cautious enough--and obsessive enough--to save my files on certain storage mediums like the local hard drive and the internet, having learned from a past experience when I was writing long sets of codes or animating. How did I lose my files? Simple, my flash drive had decided to expire just now. So I had backup. But why did I cry and sounded like a cow outside just now? The answer is simple enough, the one part of my story that disappeared was the part when I had experienced the most hideous of headaches, a series of author's block and almost went sick with it--well I got sick anyway. I was sniffling with a common cold while I was typing and editing my longhand draft. In other words, it's the part of the story that I had the least memory of typing--and it was two chapters long. If you will be in my position, what would you do? If you had been in my position, what had you done to overcome it? In my case, I decided to move forward. Leave off what had disappeared for now and continue until I finish typing my drafts to the computer. And when I finish or feel better about it, I will go back there. As for the notes I have made along the way, I trust in my brain to remember all of it.